


Mama's Gotta Brand New Bag

by twowritehands



Series: Helluva Woman [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Asexual Character, F/M, Phone Sex, ace!cas, human!Cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-25
Updated: 2015-10-25
Packaged: 2018-04-28 01:45:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5073193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twowritehands/pseuds/twowritehands
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Having learned to let go of her inhibitions, follow her desires, and color outside the lines a little with Dean, Donna has decided to become a New Donna. She’s going to embrace life, have fun wherever she can get it.</p><p>She still craves Dean...but Dean’s in the wind with Sam on a hunt.</p><p>And Cas in town.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mama's Gotta Brand New Bag

Here’s the thing about that night with Dean and the handcuffs:

 It’s wild.

Sometimes Donna thinks it must have happened to someone else or in a dream or something; it’s just not something she would have ever thought she would do. Ever. Sure, she kinda knows Dean, but she doesn’t really know him--not like she usually does before she gets in bed with a guy. Yet… She told him, this dangerous man she barely knows, that he makes her wet then cuffed him to the bed and rode him until he broke the bed to get his hands on her!

Is that experience truly a part of her life now? It is, and she loves that. Because it sounds like a cheap paperback book, the kind she likes to read over and over; and that’s what we want our lives to be--stories we want to devour over and over again. It’s interesting and fun and nothing like the routine predictable and safe life she had with Doug.

 It’s delicious.

It makes her giggle when she thinks about it. She blushes when she really thinks about it. She gets wet when she really, really thinks about it. She thinks about it a lot. His lean body stretched across the bed, his bulky arms tied over his head. His scratchy, consuming kisses. His smile. The way he moaned for her. The way his thighs shook as she bounced on his cock. The way that cock had tasted so… hmmm. Musky and salty yet still somehow better than a milkshake. She wants more of it. And not just in her mouth; her body often starts to ache and throb at the memory of the stretch, the memory of him pounding up inside her.

 It haunts her.

Like she knew it would, her little crush on Dean has exploded beyond her control. Everything reminds her of him and the way he made her feel. She finds herself comparing everyone she meets to him. She finds herself looking at his number in her phone, puzzling out excuses to call him. She doesn’t, though, call him. Because a part of her is cautious. Considering how much she wants him, and considering his lifestyle, she could be setting herself up for a lot of pain. So she doesn’t dwell on the way he asked her to call him anytime she wants to have more fun. She knows he means that as an every now and then kind of offer. Not every freaking time the wind blows.

So yeah, that night with Dean was wild and it was great and of course she wants more. But she’s not going to go crazy over this. She’s not going to get obsessed with a man just because she had sex with him. So what if she can count on one hand the people she’s been with? So what if every one of them have been significant and committed relationships? Why does the pattern have to hold? Why does Donna have to follow those old rules? That Donna was missing something or else she wouldn’t have lost her husband.

So New Plan: find that missing thing.

In all honesty, she feels like she might have already found it. Or a part of it. Sex for no other reason than to have sex. Somehow through three sexual partners and three serious relationships, it never ever occurred to her that she really could fuck someone just to fuck them. No strings attached. She had ascribed all this significance to the act, and to what end? So that every time she had sex it was more about the other person than herself? Shouldn’t sex be something she does for herself? Deciding it will be from now on gives her this modicum of peace she hadn’t known before. She likes it.

Three weeks post her near death experience and the awakening of the New Donna, a ghost shows up in her district. Perfect. She makes herself be super cool as she calls Dean, though. This is a hunt. This is work. This is serious. (And afterwards while he’s still in town she might let Mama Donna out of the box again, if he’s interested. But that’s no big deal.)

Dean’s raspy voice is bright with a smile as he talks to her over the phone, but her soaring spirits are soon dashed when he apologetically informs her that he and Sam are across the country, tracking some werewolves, and won’t be able to make it out to Minnesota to help her. She feels like a fool--it’s one little ghost, after all. Not exactly in the same league as the Winchesters. She’s afraid her real motive for calling Dean for help on it is disgustingly obvious.

“But, hey,” Dean’s voice is hushed, like he stepped away from his brother, “Maybe next time, you know? Never hesitate to call if you need--uh, whatever.”

“You got it, Dean,” She beams, still reeling over her disappointment and embarrassment. So the offer to hook up whenever still stands, _but only when it’s convenient, Donna. You should have already realized that._

A ghost may not be enough for the Winchesters to cross a few states, but Donna feels like she really does need back up on this. So she calls Jody in for help. Within two hours, the other sheriff is giving her a tight smile but a warm greeting. And, to Donna’s surprise, Jody doesn’t come alone.

Cas is with her. And he’s wearing a Sioux Falls deputy uniform. The pressed tan slacks and crisp tan button down and a black tie makes his unblemished skin look warmed by the sun and it really brings out the startling blue of his eyes. Donna is taken aback by the sight--she’d known he was handsome but a man in a uniform has always been a huge weakness for Donna.

As she does with all her friends, Donna goes in for a hug, “You look sharp! Deputy Novak now, huh?”

“Well,” Cas gives her a brief squeeze in which she smells his amazing aftershave and steps back, looking down at himself, “Claire has become great friends with Alex and wants to go to the same school. To do that she needs a Sioux Falls address and a legal guardian. My vessel _is_ her legal guardian so under that identity we found a place and Jody offered me the job.”

Jody scoffs, “Best thing I ever did, too. He’s practically running my office now. He does the work of three people and makes it look easy.”

Donna makes herself stop gawking at Cas’ firm body in his uniform and asks, “How is Claire? And Alex, too?”

“Just two peas in a pod these days,” Jody smiles, a genuinely content smile. “They have a lot in common--broken up families and all. It’s been really good for them both to have a friend to share it with.”

A friend to share it with. All at once Donna realizes she should have called Jody first; a friend to bounce this New Donna stuff off of is exactly what she needs. She can’t believe it didn’t occur to her sooner. She invites Cas and Jody into her office, offers them coffee and donuts and can’t stop herself from prattling a bit about this and that--the usual catch up stuff.

Proving his efficiency, Cas gets them right to business on the ghost hunt. Donna thrills a little at his moment of command; but then she has heard he used to be a freaking Angel of the Lord wherein he commanded hundreds of angels.

Donna goes tingly when it occurs to her in a hot delicious flash that Cas is single. She is single. Maybe he could be interested in a little fun, too. _Huh. Oh, wow. That would be_.... but does she really have the courage to do it all again--to make the first bold move? To take control of the night and get a little wild with yet another guy?

Pushing these fleeting thoughts aside, Donna catches her fellow hunters up on what she knows so far about the ghost. They prepare rock salt rounds and gather shovels, lighter fluid and iron weapons for defense. Cas breaks away to confirm the burial place of the body. Jody and Donna head to the barn, to make sure the ghost is who she thinks it is.

As they walk across the fields of the haunted farm, they talk about this and that, and before she can help herself it slips from Donna’s lips that she’s had sex—good sex—this month. Jody gasps. “You go girl! What’s his name? Where’d you meet him?”

Shrugging, mumbling, Donna tries to avoid giving the details, but Jody is so rarely in the chatty mood—and this is a topic Donna has been burning to talk about—she blurts, “It’s Dean. I hooked up with Dean.”

“My Dean?” Jody cries in utter shock. Donna grins because Jody means her-dean like an overprotective big sister. “Dean Winchester?”

Nodding, Donna spews the details—or the ones she is willing to share, anyway. “I. I dunno. I was tired of livin’ the same old way, never doin’ nothin’ bad. He’s so darn good-lookin’ I just—I went for it. I can’t believe he took me up on the offer.”

“Are you kidding? He knows what kind of catch you are. He must have felt like it was Christmas.”

“Really? No.”

“Donna, don’t make me use my mom voice. You can actually do better than Dean.”

She snorts, that seems so outrageous. “Hardly! With those eyes and lips? And I haven’t wanted a cock in my mouth that bad probably ever.”

Sputtering, Jody drops her flashlight to her side and holds up a hand. “Whoa, girl.”

Turning pink, Donna whispers, “Sorry. I just mean, he’s the finest fella I’ve ever bedded. Only ways I’m doin’ better than him is that deputy of yours.” She jumps her eyebrows for good measure. Jody stares, lifts the beam of light into her face. “Who are you? I like this Donna!”

“Thank you!” Donna squeals as quietly as she can. “A switch just flipped in me, that’s what I’m saying. Everything’s so simple now. Sayonara playing-it-safe Donna, hello world.”

“Happy to hear it,” Jody says, with a genuine smile and she aims her flashlight once more around the dark, haunted field. “You know what? I think you should go for it with Cas. ”

“Do you really think he’ll be into it?”

“Honestly we don’t talk about stuff like that, so I’m not even sure which way he swings if you get my drift. But it can’t hurt to make your move, see what happens. You deserve some fun!”

“Shoosh yah!”

They high five, and smirk at one another but then the EMT transmitter whirs. Back to business. The hunt is routine from there. They’re done in time to catch a late supper. The three of them make plans to eat at a local diner, but once there Jody bows out at the last minute with banal excuses and a wink shot Donna’s way.

Donna decides to go for it. Why not? He’s got the kind of eyes that can really get her going if she dives into them. And gosh, come to think of it, he also has a deep voice and a beautiful smile. Oh, he’s fit too. And smells amazing; she can’t pinpoint what brand of aftershave he’s using, but she kinda thinks part of it is how his own smell mixes into it all. Kind of ozoney.

She moves forward with caution, remembering Jody’s warning that his orientation is still in question. “So how’s human life treatin’ ya, hon?” she asks over their burgers.

His cheek is full of food and he licks ketchup from his pinky, “Well, I’ve been human before this, but that was terrible. Not only had I just made a horrific mistake but I was on the move a lot and I didn’t really have anyone. I lived out of a smelly old bag. Hardly stayed in the same place more than one night. Just horrible. This time around though, it’s actually kind of nice.”

“Since you’ve gone and gotten settled with Claire and all?” Donna surmises.

“Yes. Claire and I are forming a comfortable bond, and I have a home now. Even when I was an angel, I lived with the garrison and we were on the move around the world to watch over mankind. But now I have a home,” his smile is broad and pure. Donna loves it. It makes her smile and want to hold his hand.

He shrugs and continues humbly, “I mean, it’s small and Claire says it still smells like the ferrets of the guy who lived there before us. But I like having a cozy space to fill with things I like.”

“That’s great, Cas,” Donna wrinkles her nose at him, and then--she gets a little bold and lets her eyes linger on the contours of his shoulders and face and hair, “And, I don’t know a lot about angel you, but I can say that human looks good on ya.”

He tilts his head, a ghost of a smile in the corners of his lips. Donna gets nervous and starts to regret her move a little-- because now that she’s really looking at his hair, she’s thinking maybe he’s already in a relationship with someone because he has sex-hair. Has he always had sex-hair? She can’t recall.

“Thank you, Donna,” is all he says.

It occurs to her, as she watches him return to devouring his burger, that he has totally missed her come on. It makes her grin and want to hold his hand that much more. Smoking hot and adorable, oh, yeah, she can have some fun with this.

“And Jody says the job suits you well, too.”

“It’s an ideal job, really. I can continue to hunt but stay in one place, have a life. It’s lovely. The best of both worlds.” Some mustard spots his chin. Donna takes up a napkin and reaches for his face. He sticks his chin out and she wipes it clean, lets her fingers linger along his jaw for a moment.

“You have kind hands,” Cas replies, catching the fingers that have strayed across his skin.

Heart racing at the feel of his calloused hand holding hers, Donna twines their fingers together, “You know,” she starts and then braves on, “If you think Claire will be okay on her own for a night you can stay here in Still Water. I got room at my place for ya.”

-X-

Cas isn’t as ready to go as Dean had been. The deputy is extremely shy. Donna finds herself wooing, with wine and low lighting and some movie she has no intention of watching but promised just to set him at ease. She begins to understand--perhaps--a little of what men have to go through just to let off some steam. She remembers proudly setting up hoops like this, expecting optimum performance from contenders before offering the prize.

She wishes she can say, now that she’s lived both sides, that the hoops are prudish and unnecessary, but they aren’t. To each their own. For every hoop she clears, she’s gained that much trust. And nothing’s happening without that.

The wine is sweet on her tongue and she can’t even remember why she bought the bottle--must have been one of her last ditch efforts to save the marriage. One of the countless romantic dinners that were canceled last minute. ‘ _Not like you gotta eat tonight anyway, right Donn_ a?’ Doug used to say, trying to lessen the blow of his cancelation.

Anger courses through her at the memory and she drains the glass, pours another while Castiel is talking about his home renovations. The Winchesters own land in Sioux Falls, and the late Singer Salvage yard is slowly but surely becoming Heavenly Honey Fields. They’ve given their friend complete permission (and thousands of dollars) to make a life for himself on the property, which he is doing one beehive and junk-car flower bed at a time.

“I like to hear ya talk about answers and patterns in the universe,” she says, running her fingers over one of his ears. He turns a light shade of pink.

“Donna, you’re an incredible woman,” he says. “Your powers of seduction are, in my experience, quite deadly. Were I a normal man, I would be thrilled by your attention.”

“...But?”

He doesn’t meet her eye, painfully awkward. “But sexual intercourse is very uncomfortable for me. I suppose, even though I am wingless and mortal, I am still angel enough to find the act degrading and repetitive and pointless.” His big blue eyes are sympathetic and pleading. “If I were to take you in a manly fashion,” (Donna’s body pulses and a hot flash warms her chest) “I wouldn’t enjoy it. Sex is an act of closeness that undercuts itself. While giving your body to me so cavalierly, you’ll be closing off the rest of you--the only part I am interested in. Do you understand?”

She drinks deeply from her wine, rejection a weird feeling in her stomach. “I think so….what you’re sayin’ is, ya don’t do casual hook ups?”

“No. I do not. In all honesty, I don’t do any hook ups. Regardless of intimacy levels.”

“You’ve never--”

“I am not a virgin. I’ve had sex with women and men and it has ended in pain and embarrassment. I prefer conversation, even sitting in comfortable silence, a smile, a hug, holding hands...but anything beyond that…”

“I see.... Makes you a bit of a tragedy, there, Cas. You’re so good lookin’.”

“Thank you,” he smiles, “Dean said almost the same thing to me when our relationship failed.”

Donna spits her wine back into her glass. Her gasp is wet and almost chokes her. “Shut the front door!”

Cas glances over his shoulder at the entryway. “It’s closed.”

She grabs his shoulder to turn him back around. “You slept with Dean, too?”

Cas’ eyes cut to her sharply. An analytical squint, then a smile. “Dean is a very good friend, isn’t he? He is always ready to help a friend through pain in the best way he knows how. Is it the pain of the divorce that he’s helping you to forget?”

Donna flaps her hands. “We aren’t on me right now, hon. Dean slept with you? Has he slept with a lot of guys?”

“Besides me, I know he’s had trysts with a loyal Vampire we met in purgatory. But as Dean puts it ‘what happens in purgatory stays in purgatory’.”

Donna processes this flood of information with sparkling eyes. Dean as anything but the macho straight guy is titillating. “And you guys, that happened there too right?”

Cas shakes his head. “After. I became human for the second time and then….” he shrugs, a soft smile on his face. “Dean has helped me at my lowest and darkest times. If I were to ever….be with... a human, it would be him. Or so we believed until we gave it a try.”

“And?”

“It was no better than when I had tried with a woman I barely knew. He promised things would feel different with a friend, but….Our years of friendship didn’t do anything to ease this overwhelming sense of detachment--in fact, it made it worse. I hated how it felt to suddenly cringe away from my best friend. I would hate it if sex comes between us, Donna. I like you too much.”

Mind crawling over every word as she examines the integrity of the statement, Donna is silent for a moment. Then she chuckles into her glass. _I like you too much to have sex_. “Now there’s something ya don’t expect.”

His wine glass plops hollow onto the table top, no coaster. “Should I go?”

“No, hon. No. It’s okay. I hear ya.” she stays him with a hand on his knee, a little shrug. “So you’re a little different. That’s just fine.”

Cas relaxes for the first time since--well, probably since she turned down the lights, to be honest. Maybe she isn’t super great at wooing. Or maybe she needs to figure this non-sexual thing out a little more. So strange, but also--just very Cas. She smiles. Cas picks up his wine glass again. “I am having a great time tonight. This wine is delicious, and you have beautiful eyes that sparkle every time you learn something.”

“Do I?” she pushes on his knee. “Stop. Well, thanks.”

He puts his arms around her, and she sinks into the couch with him. They sip their wine and she turns up the TV. They watch some hospital dramas. Cas’ hand gives her a squeeze every so often as if to say thank you for being here or thank god you’re keeping the loneliness away tonight. He smells good and his heart is so big, so open.

She finds herself wishing he would just fuck the daylights out of her, just so that there stands a chance of it turning into something else, something like this every night for the rest of her life.

Except she's not supposed to be looking for forever.  _We're taking time to be single, fun and casual, Hanscum._  she told herself firmly, Don't _forget that_!

The problem being, that he won't do casual. He won't fuck her. Soft little kisses are his limits. Donna’s never really heard of a man who is turned off by the idea of sex, but she’s lived long enough to know that anything is possible. That still doesn’t help how the wine has made her tipsy, and the heartfelt compliments and calloused fingers and scruffy lips lightly touching her at every opportunity has made her wet.

Yes, this evening is nice. A little like being married again, but it’s not what she needs right now. She doesn’t need the relationship part right now. She needs sex.

 

-X-

With one last smile and a wave, Cas gets in his car and heads back towards Sioux Falls. Donna watches him go, wrestling with her disappointment and relief. On the one hand disappointment because, Cheese and Crackers, he’s a good kisser and those _eyes_. On the other hand relief because--well, trying on a New Donna or not--casual sex with two different guys in the same month doesn’t feel like the kind of Donna she wants to be. She can sense that no matter how much of a good time she would have found with Cas, she would have felt badly in the morning.

Her mood drops as she slips into her house. That electric feeling of possibility is gone. That sweet feeling like she was on the right path to herself--gone. Where had she gotten off track? Being wild and free with Dean felt right. Playfully flirting with Cas and fooling around had felt alright… but somewhere in there… she lost herself. Or reverted back to Nice Girl Donna. Or something.

Her head starts to feel swimmy with the frustration and stress of it all. She undresses and gets herself in bed promptly, but not to go to sleep.

 

-X-

Meanwhile, Dean hates that he couldn’t drop everything and go to Still Water to help Donna with her hunt. And anything else she might have needed from him. Sam notes his sour mood and questions it, but Dean just makes excuses. It's why Dean tells the hot waitress in the next pit stop that he is spoken for. Sam’s not there to see, so it’s easy. The woman looks disappointed and Dean briefly wonders if he is being foolish, then he remembers the way Donna laughed and flipped her hair around when they were fooling around and he grins to himself.

When they are back in the car and Dean says they are headed home to the bunker, Sam tilts his head. “What about that waitress? She was all over you.”

“Nah, she’s got flaky elbows,” he says, pulling a grossed-out face for good measure. Sam accepts this as a valid enough reason. They drive back to Lebanon and pour themselves into their beds gratefully.

Dean’s dick still twitches when he thinks about Donna in those red satin panties.

His eyes drift closed as he remembers the way she’d run her hands up and down his body, but the phone rings, shattering the mood. Annoyed, he grabs the cell off the bedside table, ripping out the charge-cord.

The moment he sees the name on his caller ID he sits up and answers, "Donna? What's wrong? Are you hurt?"

Her laugh is soft and breathy. "Nope. It's night there, isn't it?"

"Yeah," he answers, confused.

"You in bed?" she asks and something in her breathing and the hitch of her voice makes Dean flash hot and harden fully.

"Yeah," he croaks. "Door’s locked. Just you and me."

She moans. "Sorry to spring this on ya," she pants, "but I been at this feels like forever and I can't come. Need you to make me come."

Dean's vision tunnels so much blood leaves his head so fast. "You are one dirty mama," Dean purrs at her, heart racing with eagerness. He kicks away the blankets and shucks his shirts and shorts.

"Talk to me, Dean. Need it so bad."

"Okay," he soothes, warming his voice, "I'm gonna make you feel so good, baby. You want my mouth?" She keens so he takes that as a yes, "Then imagine me holding your legs open with my big hands. God, I love your legs, Donna. Want them wrapped around my head so bad. I'll eat you out so deep and I'll come just from the feel of your sexy-as-fuck thighs over my ears. Fuck, it’s so good. You with me, baby?"

"Yah," she pants with this guttural groan.

"I have your clit between my teeth and I'm flicking it with my tongue, then sucking, then flicking. You smell and taste like candy, I can't get enough."

"Deeeeeaaaaannnn,"

"That's right, come on, mama. I wanna stick my tongue in you and feel you trynna fuck yourself on it. But I'll hold your hips down and go deeper."

She cries out. "Oh, gash, I need you to fuck me, Dean. I'm so close. Fuck me, fuck, o!"

"What do you have? Are you using your fingers or do you have a, uh, toy?"

"Just my fingers," she pants.

"Get up on your knees, forehead to the bed. I want that sweet ass high up in the air."

He hears the bed rustle. He is quick to get some lotion on his hands.

"Pound your fingers in deep. And pretend it's my dick. I'm gonna fuck my hand like I’m fucking you. When I come, you come."

"Yah, Dean," she pants and he must be on speaker now because he can hear the noises. She sounds so wet and her voice is strung out, "ah-yah!"

He moans and starts jerking off, hard and fast, holding nothing back. “Hmm. You like that?”

“More,” she orders.

“If I was there, I’d smack that ass,” he hears the resounding fleshy pop and his hips buck involuntarily, interrupting his smooth rhythm, “Smack it again,” he begs roughly.

Another pop, a breathy gasp, faster, wetter noises. Dean is right on the edge now and growls. “You bad, bad mama. Makin’ me come. Gonna come!”

“O--there--YES,” she cries out before her finishing scream rents the room.

It ripples through Dean, a hot surge of delight, all consuming, that erases for a moment the darkest shadow within. He is light and free. And it feels like some kind of reward for not accepting the waitress’ offer. He preens. “Woo! Hot damn, that was good.”

She giggles. “I’m sure glad I called ya. Almost didn’t.”

“Are you kidding? Call me anytime,” he leaves it at that, so that it sounds casual. But he means more than just phone sex or hunting help. He means any time for any reason.

 

-X-

Donna idly examines her sticky fingers as she listens to Dean’s cocky tone of voice. He is pretty pleased with himself, but she is equally pleased with his performance, so it’s cute. She giggles at him, still a little high from her truly magnificent orgasm. Beneath the surface, though, is a barb of anxiety. Why had it been so hard to release? Not to brag or anything, but Donna’s solo times are stuff of legend. Then, out of nowhere, no juice. What the what?

Calling Dean had been a quick, simple solution but she had almost chickened out. Too weird right? They aren’t exclusive--far from it. So it doesn’t make any sense to phone it in, like a married couple separated by work. Bad boy on the road like he is, there’s bound to be other women tucked away for his choosing. Which means these feelings she has need to be kept in check. Otherwise she’ll be hurting again real soon.

“Knew you’d take care of it,” she says as if he’d been chosen out of a list of candidates. He chuckles breathlessly so she knows he fell for it. Good. Her heart pounds. There is so much she wants to say, but only one thing she can do. Keep it short and to the point. Their previous encounter followed a precise outline--one that a lengthy phone chat post-coitus does not fit into. And since she’s the one that called, she needs to be the one to hang up. Can’t look desperate or clingy. “Thanks, Dean. Catch ya at the next hunt.”

“You got it,” he says promptly, happily. Pleased not to be held up? Probably. She bites her lip to keep from saying more, hangs up, looks at the phone, scoffs, and tosses it aside.

“Get a grip, Hanscum,” she orders herself. She sighs and drags herself out of bed to clean up. Her face burns with shame as she goes, as what she has just done starts to set in. She has never masturbated with anyone else. It tends to be a thing she does only in utter privacy and having let Dean hear her at it... Having called him out of the blue...

Oh, god.

She dresses in her pajamas quickly, mulling it all over. Yes, Dean is amazing but he's not here most of the time. He's a full-time, off the grid, hunter. Dean is legally dead and, according to the federal government, responsible for several felonies. So, you know, not really someone she can introduce to mom and dad.

Cas--oh Donna's mother would love him. But he's not offering what she's looking for.

Her eyes fall on her desk computer. In a flash of resolve she drops down to the desk chair and goes online.

Within the hour she has a profile up on Cufflinks.

 

-X-

Dean cleans up, smiling. It feels like he has his tongue stuck to a battery, his skin is alive at the thought of Donna. What a woman. Satin panties and handcuffs. Full figured. Tattood. A cop.  A hunter. Now phone sex? What a woman.

He shakes his head with a disbelieving laugh, catches his reflection in the mirror over his sink. The Dean looking back at him is flushed with color, wide awake--smiling, not just in the mouth but in his eyes.

He rinses his face, turns out the lights and returns to bed with a contented sigh. One more chuckle and disbelieving shake of his head. 

“Helluva woman,” he murmurs. Thanks to the powerful magic in coming his brains out, Dean is asleep in no time.

The next morning, Dean takes time to make himself a succulent breakfast of french toast and bacon, sausage and eggs and even a hashbrown. Sam follows his nose to the kitchen, bleary eyed with his hippie hair uncombed.

“What the hell is this, Dean?”

 “A life worth living, Sammy,” Dean chirps happily, rolling the juicy sausages out of his frying pan onto his plate.

 “More like a heart attack waiting to happen.”

With a dismissive wave of his spatula, Dean skirts around the age-old _rabbit food_ versus _real food_ debate with a grumpy, “I got you some oatmeal over there. Whatever.

“You're going to eat all this by yourself?”

“Damn straight,” Dean says, adding--as Donna’s recipe suggests--some seasoning to his eggs.

Sam chuckles, taking a seat at the table with his old man oatmeal. “Whatever happy bug has crawled up your ass can stay there.”

Dean laughs, “You say that like I’m never happy, come on, man be fair.”

Sam shrugs, “Okay you’ve had the odd moment here or there, but you can’t pretend like you haven't been kinda pissed off with the world ever since you and Cas, uh, you know. Failed to launch or whatever.”

Dean laughs and takes a moment to tease his brother’s phrasing. Then, with a shrug, he argues, “But you know I hear what you’re saying. You’re not wrong. I mean it sucked that Cas put on the breaks and bailed. But it’s just not meant to be. And I’ve been happy since then. Maybe I haven’t been showing it. But I've been happy.”

“Well, why start showing it now?”

“Why the hell not? Jesus, Sammy, I got pep this morning. You don’t have to analyze it to death, alright?”

Sam concedes and they eat their breakfast. By the time Dean has cleaned his plate, Sam has found a case.

“Ready to hit the road?”

Dean carries his dishes to the kitchen and heads for the door with a spring in his step. “Let’s do this.”


End file.
